


Mad Man

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Conscience, Depression, Going insane, Hamilton's pov, John Laurens is not good, M/M, One Shot, POV First Person, Short One Shot, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, repeated words, takes place after philips death, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 04:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10609377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Hamilton is lost.His conscience manifests as Laurens.





	

A young man stood in front of my desk, his back facing me. A piece of paper was in his hand.

Oh dear, not again.

"Oh how your idiotic actions delight me!" Laurens laugh echoed in my thoughts, already bringing me close to tears. "Feels like justice, doesn't it?"

"Just leave me alone." I responded bitterly, hatred laced in every word I practically screamed out in pain, sorrow, death, it etched into my skin like, like an inked tip on a piece of hard paper, what can I do? What can I do?

Was I going mad? Yes. Did I care? No. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore.

I felt my hand tighten around my quill without my brain saying so.

"What's the use of living when you hate yourself so much, love?" He turned, his beautiful, innocent face in clear view. He hummed, he hummed as if his image wasn't tarnished enough due to my hallucinations. He hummed, His breath lingering ever so slightly, cold and moist as if he was real. But nothing is real. Nothing is real anymore.

I slammed a fist into my wooden desk, of course, breaking my quill in the process. Ink squirted on my hand, I felt a sharp pain inching it's way into my heart. "Leave."

He wasn't fazed. No, he smiled, leaned in real close, and kissed my forehead. "It would be so easy darling, don't you want to see me again?" He whispered, god, he whispered like the poisoned apple he was. So tempting, so loving. So ready to break your mind and soul into a million tiny pieces.

"I'd rather lay in the same bed with Jefferson, you foul, disgusting, hideous monster."  
I gritted my teeth, hot tears rolling down my cheeks. I won't win. I can't win.

"You can escape. All you have to do is give up. I'll make sure it's quick, hmm?" His voice was distant, uninterested. It's not real. He's not real. "Or maybe, you want it another way? Slow and painful, starting with the inside. How beautiful." He leaned back, a happy sigh leaving his lips.

I can't respond. I can't respond anymore. There's uncontrollable tears rolling, gliding down my face, but there is no emotion. No passion. Nothing.

"Oh so beautiful, Hamilton." He hissed, hissed like a snake, how fitting. How fitting it is, that I'm bit. Bit by my own words and ways. That's all it comes down too, right? How much pain one can endure before going mad.

And I'm mad.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a vent thing but,,  
> tell me if you want more poetic one shots (maybe not as depressing), cause this one was a lot of fun to write!
> 
> ~ kattbug


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